


Roadhog TF

by emissaryofrainbows



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Belly Kink, Growth, Other, Transformation, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-22 05:13:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19660540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emissaryofrainbows/pseuds/emissaryofrainbows
Summary: I wanted to try out Character TF, IDK if this is something anyone actually wants to read.A gamer named Mark makes the mistake of harassing his teammate during a game of Overwatch, when the teammate in question happens to be an experienced witch. She curses him out of spite, transforming him into his main: Roadhog.





	Roadhog TF

"Ugh, are you seriously fucking picking Widowmaker on offense?" Mark, otherwise known as gameon1247 said abrasively over his headset. "You know your kill count doesn't matter, right? Why don't you try to take the objective for once, scrub?"

Mark was very much the archetypal 19-year old gamer: white, brown-haired, definitely not fat but not fit either, with a slightly handsome face that was permanently scrunched up into a frustrated scowl.

Izzy, whose gamertag was edgywitch666 rolled her eyes, and her disdain was practically audible. Still, she said nothing, and allowed Mark to continue his tirade. 

Mark selected Roadhog as his hero. "See? See how I'm actually fucking trying to take the objective?" Mark said, as the match started, and he steered Roadhog towards the capture point. Izzy's Widowmaker grappled up to a nearby vantage point, and fired shots at the enemy team from above. 

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Mark said, as a volley of bullets from the enemy McCree took him down. "If you're going to pick a sniper, could you at least shoot straight?"

"Shut up!" Izzy said, firing back. Izzy's voice was a venomous, low rasp, fitting her mall-goth exterior. Everything aspect of her appearance that could conceivably be colored black was, from her hair to her lipstick to her earrings to her leather-studded outfit. 

"I'm not dropping a rank because of you," Mark snarled as he re-spawned. "How the hell did you get to master in the first place when you can't aim? At least the Mercy is actually helping me out."

"Finally, someone appreciates me," a beleaguered female voice said, coming from the Mercy's microphone. 

"I'm just trying to have fun, asshole," Izzy said. "This was a video game the last time I checked."

"If you want to have fun, go into quickplay with the rest of the casuals. Don't fuck up my game. Some dick already picked Hanzo, we don't need another sniper on our team."

The Hanzo said something obscene in a language Mark didn't recognize before being promptly shot in the head by an enemy Lucio. 

Mark got revenge for his comrade, hooking him in and finishing him off with a point-blank shotgun blast. The enemy team had taken the point, though, and the clock was slowly counting up to their defeat.

"Man, you guys are fucking useless." Mark said with an exaggerated sigh. "I was so close to going Grandmaster this time! And you idiots are going to ruin it for me!"

"Hey, stop being such a douchebag!" Izzy retorted. "Maybe if you weren't such a loud, abrasive asshole I could actually focus on the game!"

"It's not my fault, bitch. Clearly you don't know how to play the game. Would it kill you to learn anything about team composition?"

The enemy took the point completely, with Mark's team losing the first round. 

"That's it! I'm going to lose my rank, all because of some shitty Widowmainer scrub. Thanks a lot."

Izzy bit her lip. She had tried to hold back before, but she couldn't hold her bubbling, gothic anger back any longer. Izzy wasn't just a simple goth, she was also an honest-to-Satan witch, with access to a range of dark magic to smite her enemies with. Izzy wasn't just powerful, she was petty, and she was more than willing to curse someone for heckling her online.

"Dark Mother of the Night, and Ancient Father of the Moon, I call upon thee!" Izzy said, her voice taking on an ethereal echo as a blackened aura surrounded her. Her body began to float several inches above her carpet, with her Playstation controller still held firmly in her hand.

"What the hell is she talking about?" Mark said. His other teammates had either muted everyone else, for obvious reasons, or were just as perplexed by the sudden chanting as he was. Things got even more bizarre, as Izzy's spell continued. 

"Grant me your dark powers! Hex this vexing mortal for daring to disrespect a Sister of the Darkness!"

Izzy's character had gone completely still, infuriating Mark even further. 

"What the hell is wrong with you? Pick up your controller!"

"Peel away his mortal visage, and grant him a form more appropriate to his repugnant personality! Transform this pest into a hog!"

Izzy drifted gently back to the floor, as the shadowy energy around her began to dissipate. Her teammates were mostly silent, and continued playing the game as normal, with the exception of Mark, who was no longer moving. 

Mark felt the fury inside of him vanish instantly, replaced with irrepressible dread. What Izzy had said...her voice went beyond mere words, and became commands towards reality itself, as if the physical realm was a dog and she was its master.

"What the hell is happening to me?" Mark cried desperately. His entire body was tingling, shifting and changing. Mark was of average height, and his body was slowly stretching upwards. He surpassed six feet rather quickly, and continued to grow until he was just slightly in excess of seven. His hair lengthened and bleached itself into a whitish-silver color, falling to his shoulders before magically arranging itself into a neat ponytail on the top of his head. 

His physique suffered the most drastic changes. His shoulders became much broader, even in proportion to his superhuman height. His arms became bulky and muscular, ending in large calloused hands with five fat fingers each. His skin darkened, with some areas of his body more tan than others, as if they had been out in the sun. His legs became stubbier, but were stronger and thicker as well, so they could still support his weight. 

And speaking of weight, the most dramatic transformation yet was beginning to take place. Mark's chest widened and puffed out, and then...

A massive, spherical gut roared forwards from his previously flat stomach. The globular gut pressed against the fabric of his favorite gaming t-shirt, causing it to tear with an audible rip. His belly surged out from the shredded tatters of his clothing. Mark prodded it with a curious finger. It felt tight to the touch, as if he had just eaten a large meal, as opposed to soft and squishy like he imagined a belly should be. A tattoo of a pig spontaneously appeared over the front of his gut, with his swollen, outie navel serving as its snout. His entire midsection had widened entirely, with his face, arms, thighs, and hips all gaining a significant addition of bulk made of equal parts fat and muscle. 

"What's going on?" he said, finding his voice deeper and more guttural, almost monstrous. The final transformation set in, as his face was covered by a black gask mask with an appropriately porcine design. 

Mark was left stunned, swollen, with fingers and hands far too large to operate his discarded controller. 

"And that's how I got to Master," Izzy said, as the enemy team promptly surrendered.


End file.
